Frankly My Dear, I Don't Give A Damn
by Desepere Romantique
Summary: An interesting parody of a night at the opera house with an Erik who goes through a random series of personality quirks. Excerpt from my previous story That Voice Which Sings To Me


**I just couldn't resist posting this…True it's an old chapter from one of my stories, but I decided that I missed being in the POTO limelight…**

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I walked down the well known hallway of the Opera House, and much to my surprise, it was completely empty.

'This is odd… Hey, I wonder if I'll see Erik!' I thought, pulling my lips into a grin.

I wandered around the winding passages of the Opera Populare for a while, before finding myself in the backstage of the stage. I ran up to where the spot light should have been, looked around me, and then burst out into my favorite song from 'Wicked': 'Defying Gravity'…

"_So if you care to find meeeee, look to th' western sky. As someone told me lately 'everyone deserves a chance to_ FLY_" And if I'm flying solo, at least I'll be flying free, to those who'd ground me, take a message back, from meeeee! Tell them how I am defying gravity… I'm flying high, defying gravity! And soon I'll match them in renown… And no body in all of oz, no wizard that there is or was, is eva' gonna bring…meEe… DOWN!" _

As I hit the last note and held it for so long my ears started to ring.

"wow." I said, wondering if I woke up everyone in the Opera house with my crazed singing. I glanced behind me to see if anybody was charging at me with a pitchfork or a Punjab. Seeing no one, I turned back around, only to find myself face to face with the man himself- Erik.

I opened my mouth to let out a squeal worthy of any phangirl, but Erik put his hand over my mouth. Instead of a happy squeal of delight, I let out a whimper of pain. My braces had been tightened, and they were still freakishly sore.

He let me go, but reached towards his pocket. I involuntarily jerked my hand to the level of my eyes, but he didn't pull out a length of rope, but instead a gun.

"AAAAAAAAAH!" I yelled, "I'm too young to die! SPARE ME!"

He gave me an odd look, but instead said in a tone so much like Elmer Fudd that I raised an eyebrow.

"We're going FOP hunting; we must be vewy quiet…" He then completely ignored me and prowled away to the backstage area.

I stood motionless, and only stared after him until I couldn't see his stealth figure anymore.

I clambered over the stage and through the pit, and made my way past the seats and made it to the huge front foyer, playing around with the 'Masquerade' moves I had memorized. But after a while I just wandered aimlessly around the front foyer, wondering what Erik was doing, but just as I was pondering Raoul's death by gun, my thoughts were interrupted by a banshee like cry.

It was only after the second time that I realized that it wasn't an Indian call or something of the sort, no, it was a pirate yell.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGG!" I heard again, and I turned just in time to see Erik running at full speed right towards me.

I stood in shock and surprise, and the thought that I should jump out of the way never came into my mind except, but I didn't have so much to worry about him running into me, no, I should have been worrying that the floor was polished to perfection.

Erik's foot slipped on the slick marble, and he fell on his chest, and skidded towards me in such manner that it reminded me of a slip-and-slide. It was only the millisecond before he hit me did I realize I should have jumped out of the way, but too late...

Erik slid into me, and I flew through the air like a retarded bird, trying to gain footing in thin air, and then flopping onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Ohmigod…ow." I moaned as I skidded to a halt all the way across the foyer.

I looked over at Erik, who was pulling himself off the floor, and yelled over "Jesus, you could have killed me!" And not really caring that he could Punjab me any second.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." He said, and sauntered off, pretending to slam a door behind him.

I again raised an eyebrow.

"What… the crap?" I said, looking after him.

I giggled a little, before saying the final line in the book:

"I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, Tomorrow is another day."

I sighed, wondering why Erik was acting as if on crack.

As I lay on my throbbing butt, trying to regain my dignity, even though there wasn't anyone there.

Suddenly Erik ran back into the room, "Cheeks lak zee rose, eyes lak zee emerald!" he said, pinching my cheeks.

"I don't have green eyes!" I said, forgetting that he was only again commenting 'Gone with the Wind'.

"Madame, you flatter yourself. I do not want to marry you or anyone else. I am not a marrying man." He said, not paying any attention to what I just said. I wondered what line he was going to use next, and was not kept waiting long. He then knelt down beside me, and gave me a look of despair.

"I love you, for your courage and your stubbornness and your fire and your utter ruthlessness. How much do I love you? So much that a moment ago I could have outraged the hospitality of the house which has sheltered me and my family, forgotten the best wife any man ever had- enough to take you here in the mud like a…" He stopped himself before he could say any more, and pulled me up off of my butt.

I decided to play along, and I said in mock despair, "If you felt like that and- and didn't take me- then you don't love me."

"I can never make you understand."

We stood in silence for a moment before I broke the silence, "There is nothing left. I said dully "Nothing left for me. Nothing to love. Nothing to fight for. You are gone and Tara is going."

He stared at me with those sexy eyes of his, before he pulled me close to him and pressed his mouth against his.

My eyes were wide open with shock, but the rest of my body was tingling as if I had stuck my finger in a light socket. I knew that he was messing up on his cues, but this was the best mistake I had ever seen, or felt, in my life.

He pulled away, I stood on tiptoe to meet his lips again, but he shoved me out of the tender embrace. "What in god's name…" he said, looking incredibly evil.

I backed off, forgetting to raise my hand to the level of my eyes.

He pulled out the Punjab, and threw it over my neck, and I remembered to bring my fist up, but it was too late.

"Grach… Eurchh…" I choked out, trying to beg him not to kill me.

He smiled meanly, and then I felt everything dim, and I felt like I was being sucked down a drain, and everything faded into… pinkish hues?

I sat up in bed and looked around me. It was the early hours of the morning, and the soft pink morning sunlight was streaming through my windows.

"That is the last time I EVER watch Pirates of the Caribbean, then Phantom of the Opera, and then read Gone with the wind while listening to 'Wicked' before bed.


End file.
